


Silence

by possiblyfictional



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Driving, Existential Crisis, Gen, Sad Sam, i literally have no idea what this is so enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possiblyfictional/pseuds/possiblyfictional
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunsets and silence go together, Sam thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

The sun slips behind sunset-dim mountains, and Sam watches. He sees the colors etched in the sky, swooping pinks and oranges that blend into gentle purples and blues. He’s quiet. His skin is kissed by the last rays of sunlight to hit this patch of Earth. The leather of the Impala preens under the golden light, and Dean drives, listening to the music playing in the car, face serene, yet carefully schooled blank. Sam is quiet. His eyes take in the landscape, pushed and pulled into what it is today by billions of years disappearing under the steady tread of Earth’s movement. He leans his head against the headrest, feeling the tug of centrifugal force leaning him this way and that as Dean scales the mountains. A lone hawk circles lazily above the winding road, a stark silhouette against the colors of the sky.

Sam is quiet.

Recently, he's become tired.

He knows well what it is to be tired, but this is a new type of exhaustion. This is the kind of tired that lies in more than just bones, the kind of tired that clings like cobwebs to the mind, the kind that doesn’t go away after a week of rest. He is so, so tired.

The view is beautiful, and Sam is quiet. His hands feel weighed down, fated to never rise again. He feels like if he lets his jaw drop, if he lets himself speak, he won’t be able to slam his mouth shut again. So he clenches his teeth, stares out the window, and is quiet.

He watches the hawk made of shadows dive towards safety, towards a home. Sam wonders what it’s like to fly, and then he remembers that if he were to, he’d probably plummet to the earth. Doubt and fear will pull his feathers from his wings, burn him from the inside out, kill him before his body can hit the ground.

Sam pushes this out of his mind. He is quiet.

He stares at the sunset, watching the colors disappear into the dark of night, Dean’s headlights on and their pace slow to keep them from driving off the road. The stars overhead are bright. He had always liked the stars. When he sees them, the light hitting his eyes is from the past. He can look back, and wonder, and pretend that he is okay.

Sam wonders, and he is quiet.

His body is heavy, reaching for sleep that won’t come. He watches the world slip by around him, and Sam is quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> I have written nothing in 18000 years here i am i am sorry thanks for reading ily


End file.
